


Reunion

by bob2ff



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-16 05:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1332916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bob2ff/pseuds/bob2ff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nijimura meets Akashi for the first time since Teikou.</p><p>Written for bps Challenge 62: Girls. (Akashi is genderbent)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Nijimura saw her since handing over the reigns to Teikou’s basketball club was when he was 22, and she was 20.

He had been on his way back from his part-time job when he heard a “Nijimura-san, it’s been a while.”

In an unmistakable voice he would have placed even 7 years after middle school— cool, distanced and altogether untouchable.

The voice of the only girl that even at 15, he could tell could have handled Teikou’s mentality, and the inevitable propulsion of the Generation of Miracles. A girl he had not thought of for just that length of time, if only because he had been caught up with things that were bigger than basketball, which had seemed to be everything at 15 but meant nothing in the face of a sick father, working mother, and 2 younger brothers to take care of.

Nijimura had had to give up being captain to be a leader beyond basketball, to be a leader in life, and couldn’t spend the emotional or mental capacity to guide his team, even when he could tell (everyone could tell) they were too raw and young for their talent and was on the path to self-destruction.

He turned, almost not believing his ears. Akashi smiled at him, her eyes (wait was one of them ORANGE? a stray thought raced across his mind) unreadable and enigmatic as always, her smile given as though you were lucky she deigned to give you one.

She was still beautiful. Beautiful, in that cold untouchable way that had allowed her to be the first and only female captain of the strongest team middle school basketball in Japan had ever seen. Long, so straight it shimmered, red hair cut just to her shoulders. She looked older than the 13-year-old he remembered, of course, in the way that her features had refined, cheekbones defined and lips fuller. A small, delicate ear peeked out of her straight hair.

It was the summer, and a breeze blew by in the darkening sky of late evening, rustling Akashi’s white sundress.

Akashi was the primmest, stiffest girl Nijimura knew (if she were a boy, Midorima would have left her far behind — Nijimura never knew anybody so ). In Teikou, she combed her hair a hundred times after practice. She wore her uniform with nary a fold out of place.

Nijimura remembered to breathe, and hiding his surprise, smiled back at her. He surprised himself. He did not expect to be able to handle Akashi’s constant air of mystery so fast. But it was like muscle memory, once you learnt it, you never forgot it. Besides, she was his kohai. She was not allowed to pull a fast one over him and get away with it (as Haizaki found out the hard way, multiple times).

"Have you been talking to Momoi? Waiting here knowing I would pass by?" he smirked. Only the ex-manager could have thrown such a curve-ball at him, knowing enough information to know to wait at the exact intersection he passed on his way back to his university dorms.

"Of course not. I knew enough myself," Akashi continued to smile like she knew something that transcended your very existence. It would have been creepy if she weren’t so beautiful. As it were, it was Akashi’s smile. It made boys fall over wanting to confess and then regret the moment they opened their mouths. It made her a leader in spite of the controversy of having a female captain. It had made Nijimura believe in her.

She stepped closer to him, graceful, airy steps that made her skirt rustle in the light breeze. She placed a hand on his chest, and looked up the short distance into his face.

"Are you free to catch up, Nijimura-san?"

He shrugged. “Sure. Want to get dinner? I was going to make omuraisu, but we can just go to a ramen place nearby.”

Akashi frowned slightly in bewilderment. Her frown was still dainty, pretty, and had made most middle school Japanese schoolboys want to take it away. “O-mu-raisu?” she asked.

Nijimura placed a hand on her head and ruffled her hair. The ends of her hair bounced.

"You don’t know what Omuraisu is?" he said, incredulous.

"Still a prissy princess, I see. Looks like there’re still things I can teach you," he said, flicking her chin with a finger.

"My place is nearby. You can start by learning how to cut onions without crying." Nijumura turned and started walking. It was a habit of his — he led, and people followed.

Akashi’s eyes widened imperceptibly at his misstep. Then she smiled. “Lead the way, senpai.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nijimura reflects upon all the ways he and Akashi are different.

Akashi looks out of place in Nijimura's flat.

He isn't sure whether it is because his flat is the problem— it is minimalist, and built with the absolute barest of essentials for a college student with simple needs. Or if it was the fact that the way she carries herself, graceful with a touch of holier-than-thou, makes her stand out in the casual atmosphere of his house, the way a rose looks out of place amongst wild grass.

Either way, he ignores it. And tries to ignore how very different she is from what he is used to, all poised and elegant (so very different from the rough casualness of his own movements). Different in the way she chops carrots and onions as per his instructions, to the way she peers at him curiously when he asks her to "toss the garlic in the wok for a bit."

Later, when they are eating, he gets two beers to go with their meal. Her fingers, clutched around a beer can, look like they do not belong. The graceful contours of her hand, from the long slim fingers to the narrow wrist, look like they would suit holding the stem of a wine glass or a teacup far more than they do the crude shape of a can.

It had been like that even in their basketball styles. Although Akashi's graceful style had nonetheless been attributed to her gender, Nijimura somehow knew that her style of basketball came from her own raw skill and talent, something her gender could not influence. People used to whisper that Akashi's basketball was like a dance- but a dance that was sinister and ruthless in its annihilation of opponents that stood in its path. Nijimura's own style was all power and drive, brute speed and strength ruthlessly overpowering their opponents as he drove through them.

Akashi took a sip from her beer. Nijimura could not help watching as she gracefully dabbed at her lips with her napkin (Nijimura barely had tissues in his place, but was glad he had managed to scrounge out some serviettes left behind from some old house party a friend had thrown in his place).

And then there was the difference in their leadership styles. The girl captain in an all-male team that later became legends in the Japanese middle school basketball scene, Akashi could very easily had been accused of leading through her 'feminine wiles'. As it were, she captained the Generation of Miracles like she belonged there, the anomaly of her gender forgotten in the certainty of the way she guided them to victory after victory. There was no question of the oddity of her gender in an all-male team- Akashi led with ruthless grace and with the certainty of a natural predilection for victory, the way she did most things.

Nijimura on the other hand, was a captain of hair mussing and forehead flicks. He led with the gruff expectation that the team would follow him, and they always did. He had the no-nonsense air of a captain who would not tolerate insubordination, yet had the casual relatability of an older brother. People followed him because they wanted to, not because they were scared of him.

“Nijimura-san,” Akashi said, her lips curving. “You’re staring.”

Nijimura felt the flush rise from the back of his neck. “Sorry.” He quickly continued to eat. Why was this so _weird_? He had no awkwardness inviting her to dinner earlier — they had spent countless minutes in each other’s company as captain and vice-captain back at Teikou, after all, without any weirdness between them. Of course people talked, as hormonal teenagers did, about there being _something_ between them. What that _something_ was, Nijimura never bothered to find out. He wasn’t sure he had wanted to find out — Akashi was _Akashi_ , and he had not wanted to think of her that way back then.

But she was just a kid then, his mind supplied. She’s _different_ , now. She’s grown up.

She’s still _Akashi_ , though, another side argued. She still has that air like a killer lightbulb — attracting everything to gravitate naturally towards her, but _couldn't, shouldn’t_ , be touched. Okay, now Nijimura’s mind was getting _weird_. He shouldn’t be comparing Akashi to an insect-killer.

He cleared his throat, loudly. “Okay, so what have you been up to?” Just keep things casual, he told himself, then things hopefully would stop being weird.

Of course, that was the fundamental way Akashi and him were different. He always tried to keep things casual, light-hearted, unconscious and natural. Akashi was all _deliberation_ — every action meticulously thought out, _nothing_ unintended and nothing uncontrolled. She made conversation back with him after his pathetic attempt to start one, but every sentence was well-crafted. She was the perfect conversationalist — not an awkward word said, every phrase polite and _appropriate_ as to the setting.

It was the well-constructed setting of an evening between two old friends catching up — nothing more, nothing less. Despite that, Akashi had helped him clean up and _washed the dishes_. _Akashi_ , washing dishes. Nijimura would never have thought her capable of that back in Teikou. Yet, the way she did everything in her life, she washed dishes like it came naturally to her, like she had an inborn ability to wash dishes absolutely perfectly.

Later, Nijimura waved Akashi off as her (chauffeured, of course) car waited, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“So, I’ll see you around the next time you’re in the area, then?” he said. He placed a hand on her head. While Nijimura normally did this casually with all his old kohai, this time, however, the action was forced. He _had_ to keep this semblance of former captain up — if he didn’t, things would get too _weird_. “Hope you liked the omuraisu,” he said, forcing a teasing smile.

Then, Akashi unsettled Nijimura’s expectations yet again. She leaned in, placing a hand on his chest. The fragrance of flowers wafted in the air as she pressed her lips to his cheek. “It was very nice seeing you again, senpai,” she said, lips curved in a knowing smile.

As she left, Nijimura just stared bemusedly after her. Wait, was that a _date_ and he had not realized it? He didn’t know.

Where her lips touched him, the skin tingled.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by half_sleeping’s AMAZING Miracles AUverse. Everyone needs to read it! This is just my tribute to her awesome characterization of Kurobasu characters, even when they are genderbent.


End file.
